


I hope you don't mind

by adamparrishisbi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU Limited Sexism, AU No/Limited Homophobia, All of the women are better diplomats and the men let them talk AU, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Author misuses tags, But like mostly trying to shoehorn Westeros into this myth and make it work, But not a dumbass that gets everyone killed, Catch my opinions and background on religion seeping into this one hard, Don't worry Robb's still a dumbass, F/F, F/M, FUCK THE FREYS, Far too much time spent discussing marriage alliances, Fix-It of Sorts, For all the care I put into marriage politics I put 0 effort into making those heterosexual pairings, Fun with Timelines, I'm not sure what the plan for children there was just happily pretend that doesn't matter, Krakens deserve better than what I give them in this fic, M/M, Mostly me yelling at how dumb it is that they'd marry off a King for a bridge, Multi, Ned Stark Lives, No one dies over bad marriage politics (except for that one bad guy shh), Overly Researched, POV Alternating, POV Robb Stark, POV Theon Greyjoy, Red Wedding Alternative, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Slight mishandling of characters to make things work, Tagged with Asha and Yara for ease of discovery, The geography should actually work I spent way too long on this please try me, Then using the fact that he's not technically a king yet in this to make a plausible trade off, Walder Frey is a monster, Whitewashed Greek myth, for now anyway, slight mishandling of thousands of years of religion in and out of canon to make things work, unfortunately I did that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 23:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamparrishisbi/pseuds/adamparrishisbi
Summary: As they sailed through the Ironman’s Bay Robb caught sight of what looked like a marble statue of a man against a boulder on the coast of one of the isles.“What’s that?” he shouted back to the man at the rudder, who shrugged in response, and turned the boat to circle the island. At this more people had joined Robb to look at the statue on the shoreline. Still no one could make out what the statue was doing on the shoreline.“Circle closer!” Raynald called back, laughing. “I want to see what has the monster slayer so entranced!” As the ship circled a third time Robb saw the statue move.“Land the ship! That’s a person!” Robb cried and no sooner had the ship run aground than Robb was climbing to the sandy beach and charging over to the man at the rock. Gods be good, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.It's a Perseus/Andromeda Throbb fic.





	1. It's the best I can do

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Your Song" by Elton John because I'm a sucker for song lyric titles, and still not over Richard Madden in Rocketman tbh.
> 
> This came from discussion in the comments section of VagrantWriter's The Illusion of Life, which is FANTASTIC and I will link it when not dead. 
> 
> Chapters are all going to be short lil snips but I should have it all up by the end of this week so, trade off here.

When Theon was 11 his older brothers died in the war against the Westeros empire. The Ironborn navy had been obliterated, and too many of their people lost, the king’s two oldest sons were just more to add to the body count, and just more reason why the Westerosi conquerors thought themselves absolutely victorious.

4 years later his sister was named the Lady Reaver and Crown Princess of the Iron Islands on her 18th nameday. When their father died Asha would ascend to the throne, not Theon. By then it surprised no one, Asha was the strong one, the warrior, the reaver, the true iron born heir, and the future Queen. Theon was the delicate one, the beautiful one, his mother’s son, and the youngest child. When Theon was 15 he knew his future was going to be based on what would make a good marriage alliance.

As Asha grew up she built an army behind her, she sailed the Iron Fleet south to Lannisport, to the Shield Islands, and to Dorne. She spoke to the Lannisters, Tyrells, and Martells, and both Margaery and Loras Tyrell were offered as marriage prospects for an Ironborn alliance. Asha sailed north, around Sea Dragon Point, through the Bay of Ice and to the Bear Island. Lord Bolton offers his oldest son, Ramsay, though he stands to inherit nothing, a northern alliance is still powerful, but Dacey Mormont is still unmarried, and will soon be the Lady of Bear Island. Asha was a powerful sailor, yes, but better still, Asha Greyjoy was the most skilled diplomat the Iron Islands had seen since before Aegon’s conquest. She was going to be queen one day, and before then she’d secured a plethora of potential partners for her or her brother. Theon however, grew up on Pyke and Harlaw, and rarely sailed outside the Ironman’s Bay. But Theon grew up to be beautiful. On Theon’s 18th nameday he was promised to the North. The engagement was technically only to a bannerman of the Starks, there was no guarantee which bannerman it would be. Asha was soon to make Margaery Tyrell her bride, a marriage that would promise the safety of The Reach, were the Iron Islands to rise up, and promise power to the Ironborn were they to be attacked by King’s Landing again. Theon would secure safety from that. Marrying a bannerman would promise the Ironborn protection from northern attacks were the Westerosi King ever to decide his claim over the Iron Islands was too loose, and in return the bannerman’s heir would marry the most beautiful nobleman from here to Dorne, or the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. Theon Greyjoy, with his long curling dark hair, and eyes the color of stormy seas, was so striking in fact that his mother proclaimed her son to be more beautiful than the waves of the ocean, or any man sat at the Drowned God’s feast hall. True though this may be, it angered the Drowned God, for his children and his creations were not to be disrespected as such. And so the Drowned God rose from the sea and told Alannys and Balon that for their vanity and pride they must pay, and he would send the greatest Kraken in the whole sea to extinguish the Greyjoy’s kingdom.

Alannys was so overcome with grief she could not leave the castle, and so it fell to Balon to save the Iron Islands. He consulted his most trusted priest, his brother Victarion, who said that the only way to stop the destruction of the kingdom would be to sacrifice Theon to the Kraken, by chaining him to a rock at low tide. And Balon, caring far less for his son than for his kingdom, told Asha to take his best men and sail around the horn of Dorne, and chained Theon to the biggest boulder

When Theon thought back on his life there were a lot of things most people would be bothered by that he had simply seen coming far enough in advance to be okay with. His sister’s coronation filled him with nothing but joy, since it had been obvious since his brother’s death that she would succeed their father. His own engagement, he was unbothered by, though there was high likelihood that he would be married off to someone he never met, who might be truly terrible, he knew he’d be married to a northman as soon as he first heard his sister say Margaery’s name. And truly Margaery Tyrell Greyjoy was the only woman who could possibly match his sister in wit, strategy, and power, and Loras Tyrell and the southron lordlings didn’t appeal to Theon any more than Dacey Mormont or any other Stark bannermen did, so there was no point in fighting it. He’d seen it coming. What he had absolutely not seen coming was being chained to a rock by his own father and left to be kraken fodder. But Theon was a useless and beautiful boy in a world where the only value he had was to marry someone less useless. So here he was chained to a rock, and watching the tide come in.

* * *

Robb was 18 when his best friend fell in love with someone she probably shouldn’t have. Robb was 19 when he followed suit just after her wedding. With the Westeros empire on the precipice of war at any moment, marriage bonds of the great houses weren’t enough to hold the lower houses to their liege lords promises, and so when Robb’s lord father wanted to station men at The Twins in preparation for a possible Southern uprising House Frey had said their allegiance to the Lady of Winterfell’s maiden house made no matter to them without a marriage of their own. They asked for Robb himself, of course Ned and Catelyn Stark had rightly laughed the absurdity of that request off as soon as it had left the messenger’s lips. But Dacey Mormont had been the perfect choice. Few Northern houses were so much the north as those from Bear Island, and even married to the Freys she would not soon forget her people, nor let the Late Lords of the Green Fork sway her from her strong will. Dacey hadn’t been enthused exactly but politically it was the best option there was. Then a wrench was thrown in the plan when Dacey got pregnant. And not with a Frey heir. To Robb the situation was almost laughable. Of _course_ they had been in Riverrun to speak with the Freys in the first place, when she’d met Raynald Westerling. And _meet him_ she had. So the alliance with the Freys had been sourly broken, but the wedding of Mormont and Westerling was still a joyous occasion, at least until an out of breath bard managed to burst into the feast hall and declare that Walder Frey himself had heard of the Stark heir’s presence at the wedding and sent troops marching down to kill them all. Robb found that bit considerably less laughable and infinitely less joyous. Luckily in Bear Island tradition they had sailed down to the Crag, something Frey had not known of, and they could just as easily sail up to the Twins before his men made it past the Red Fork. 

Robb Stark was 19 years old when he first slayed a monster. Walder Frey was a beast of a man with ninety-some children all vying for his throne when he was gone, so he made a deal with The Stranger to give him eternal life… in return for eternal loneliness. Walder Frey could not look upon any living thing or he would turn it to stone. This made him an insurmountable threat, but also the lynchpin keeping House Frey from tumbling into anarchy. Robb Stark was little more than a child with a horse, a sword, and a weirwood shield, praying to the old gods for guidance when he stepped off the boat at Seagard. He’d told his father’s men to stay behind and protect Dacey and Raynald on the ship, Walter Frey was likely to be unguarded now anyway. And so, just barely 19 years old and all alone, Robb hid behind his shield praying as he waited outside The Twins for the sound of the last of Walder’s sons to leave, when the ancient face in the weirwood of Robb’s shield opened its mouth and spoke. 

“What’s a son of Riverrun doing praying to the First Men’s gods?” the shield spoke. It was all Robb could do to stop from dropping shield and sword alike, carefully steadying his voice before he replied.

“You are my father’s gods, and his father before him, and the gods of the Kings of Winter, and the First Men, and I am as much their son as I am Riverrun’s.” Robb willed himself to believe it. To stare past his own Tully-freckled nose back into the face of the shield. His father had gifted him the shield on his nameday, and told him cryptically that it held great power for those who were worthy. Robb had been grateful, but unsure of how a shield could ever hold power in and of itself. He understood now. 

“Very will Son of the Winter Kings, you know what lies beyond these gates do you not” The shield spoke again, and again Robb was startled.

“I’ve heard legend of what Walder Frey has become, but, forgive me, if you are here to answer my prayers, how could Frey have made a deal with The Stranger?” Robb looked now to the shield for answers, half expecting it to return to silence forevermore and leave him wondering again whose gods he should answer to.

“There are many gods my son, you know that. Any will answer to someone who believes. I know you doubt us like your mother before you, but still you prayed to us so here we answer. The man in that castle is man no longer. To look upon his eyes is to turn your very flesh to stone. But you don’t need your eyes to believe. You don’t need your eyes to fight, or to win.” 

“But how do you expect me not to see? Or to fight without seeing?” Robb asked the shield, pausing briefly to consider that he was speaking to a slab of wood and expecting helpful answers. 

“Bind your eyes so you do not look upon Frey’s face my child and I will guide you.” The shield spoke. “I will be your eyes, as I have been the eyes of Winter Kings for hundreds of years.” At this the weirwood face opened its eyes, two great grey knots in the wood, which began to glow. Robb tore a swath of fabric from the edge of his tunic and tied it over his river blue eyes and pushed down the voice in the back of his head that said _but I’m not a King of Winter. My lord father isn’t even one. _

“You may not be a King yet, but you will be.” The shield said and Robb saw the eyes of the weirwood face glow grey, and briefly illuminate the path ahead of him hazily through the linen over his eyes. He walked forward into the castle.


	2. but then again no

Theon was coming on his third hour on the rock when he noticed the boat circle around Blacktyde and pass in front of the islands a second time. For a moment his heart pounded thinking the ship could belong to a savior, before he chided himself for the foolish notion. _No one’s coming to save you. No one wants to save you, and even if they did, it’s your own king father who’s chained you here. _When the boat passed in front of him a _third_ time Theon had officially lost his mind. He was shaking with bodily laughter, and threw his head back to shout “What the FUCK? Now you’re just fucking with me.” At that the ship cut a hard turn in towards the shoreline, passing impossibly close to Theon and his boulder before beaching itself along the shoreline next to him. Theon was still laughing in utter disbelief as the most beautiful man he’d ever seen stepped off the boat. His skin was tanned lightly and freckled heavily, but from the direwolf on his breast Theon knew him to be a northman. The sailor walked, no _sauntered_ towards Theon with a confidence no one approaching a chained stranger should have. He ran his hand through the curls of his auburn hair. _Fuck. _Theon realized three things in that moment. One, he was about to die. Two, he very much wanted to run _his_ hands through this beautiful stranger’s hair himself. Three, he was never going to have sex again, as he was literally chained to a rock and about to be eaten. _Well I hope the Drowned God favors me in his feast halls despite my parents. _Theon laughed again at the notion of the very god he was being sacrificed to favoring him in any sense. And then, because the Drowned God apparently had a sadistic sense of humor, the stranger spoke. 

“You’re real.” he said in total awe, “Marry me.” His words were full of complete wonder. Theon laughed mirthlessly. 

“Would that I could, but I’m a little tied up here” Theon rattled the chains binding his wrists above him to the rock and the stranger seemed to pause and take in the whole situation for the first time. 

“Why are you chained to a rock?” he asked in confusion. _How the fuck is he just now noticing that?_

“The long and short of it is that my mother said I was prettier than the sea, so the Drowned God is sending a Kraken after the islands, and my dad’s more than a bit of an asshole so here I am.” Theon shrugged as best he could with his hands chained above his head. 

“You are. Let me marry you,” then almost as an afterthought, “let me unchain you?”

“You really aren’t letting that go are you? Also did you miss the Kraken bit? The only thing getting me down from here is an awful lot of tentacles, or possibly my father deciding to grow a moral compass. Not you, the nameless stranger from the North.” Theon _knew_ at this point the Drowned God was actively fucking with him. 

“Where’s your father? I want to ask him for your hand. I don’t care what monsters I must best first.” The northman drew his sword at this, and the great direwolf head upon the pommel shone briefly in the light. _Great. He’s a fucking bannerman of the Starks not just any northman. When he gets himself killed over it Asha’s whole delicate alliance is going to fall apart. _

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to draw your sword unless you intend to use it? The Kraken’s a tide away, and my king father is sitting on the salt throne in Pyke’s great hall. Whoever you intend to gut clearly isn’t me and I’m the only one in sword’s reach of you. Put that thing away.” _Drowned God, this man’s acting like a green boy too drunk on blood to know where next to swing his blade. _To Theon’s great surprise the stranger blinked, and sheathed his sword, dumbstruck. 

“Fine. I’ll go to your king father then to ask for your hand my lord.” At that the northman bent to a bow in front of Theon. “You have it on my honor that I will do all in my power to save you.” With a flourish the stranger stood and turned to walk away. Theon rolled his eyes

“Very nice of you but could I at least get your name? Mine’s Theon” 

“Robb!” The stranger called over his shoulder. _Huh. Asha didn’t mention a Robb amongst the bannermen. Mayhaps he’s named for the fat king. Probably the right age to be named after the rebellion by one of the Northern houses that made their name in it. Didn’t the Reeds have a few children the right age for that? _Suddenly Theon wished he’d paid more attention to Asha’s alliance mapping, so he’d know which lord would be coming to avenge his son’s misguided chivalry, perhaps even who to remind _Robb_ to save his own neck for. But instead he was left wondering, as Robb of House Whoever-He-May-Be, stalked back towards his ship, direwolf pommel still snarling against his hip. 

* * *

Robb was rounding the stairs of the castle’s main turret when the light of the weirwood went out. No sooner could he say something than he heard the voice of the old god speak again in his mind.

_It is dangerous for me to light the way any longer, lest you draw attention to yourself, but listen carefully to me and you may win your battle yet Robb of Winterfell. _

Robb was born at Riverrun. Robb was not a King of Winter. Robb was just a child and in the chamber before him was a monster he could not see, and in his head was a god he didn’t know he had believed in, a god his mother’s people thought of as little more than a monster itself. 

_Frey sits on his throne before you. If you walk straight ahead you’ll come upon his back. Stay quiet. _

Robb turned the sword in his hand as he walked forward. He was about to kill a man on his throne. Would they call him Lordslayer after this? The thought almost made him laugh. He was the son of a liege lord and just a boy, sneaking up on a fat old man from behind and calling it a fair fight. _Wasn’t Frey supposed to be immortal?_

_The Stranger can only promise respite from the death he himself would bring. Why do you think old Frey never leaves his throne room? But you must make sure your blow is fatal, any uncertainty and he will survive. Two paces ahead boy._

Robb dropped the tip of his sword to the floor, brushing it lightly across the stones of Frey’s throne room until he felt the tip catch on the base of Frey’s great throne. 

“I may have been remiss in my duties as your mother’s vassal. I don’t think I sent the Bear Bitch a wedding present yet. I had planned for it to be her new husband’s head as well, but I’m sure yours alone will do just fine.” The throne groaned across the floor as Walder Frey stood and turned to face Robb. 

_Swing. _The voice of a thousand of the old gods screamed in Robb’s ears at once, and he lifted his sword head high and did just that. The steel sung through the air for a minute before the sound of Walder Frey’s head dropping to the floor echoed throughout the throne room. 

“Close his eyes, and take the head with you my lord” the weirwood face said again as its eyes glowed once more. Robb saw little more than the outline of Frey’s head through the linen over his eyes, feeling across his grotesque face until his fingers caught on eyelids and pulled them shut. Finally he could take the bindings off his eyes, and tie them around the head of Frey’s instead. 

“Go to your bannermen my son. They wait for you still.” The shield spoke once more as its eyes closed again. _They’re not MY bannermen, they’re my father’s._ Robb thought once more as he picked up the head and turned to leave the castle.

_And you are not the King of the North _yet_ either. But trees do not see time._

Robb couldn’t be sure if the shield had spoken to him or if he’d imagined it, but either way he walked as fast as he could out of the castle and back to his horse. There were no more kings in the world but King Robert, all others claimed their titles falsely, and Robb was certainly not of Storm’s End. 

Robb Stark was still only 19 when he boarded a ship full of the fiercest men the north had to offer and held aloft the severed head of an immortal man. Robb Stark was still a green boy who had never seen a winter when his father’s bannermen fell to their knees before him. 

“Just get me a damned sack to put this thing in before it turns one of you to stone” Robb shouted instead of responding to the display before him. As soon as the head had been bagged he turned to Dacey. 

“A wedding gift for you my Lady. And now I believe we had a wedding to finish.” Cheers went up around the ship and wineskins emerged from many a belt, as the ship moved out of Seagard, and Robb made his way to the prow. As they sailed through the Ironman’s Bay Robb caught sight of what looked like a marble statue of a man against a boulder on the coast of one of the isles. 

“What’s that?” he shouted back to the man at the rudder, who shrugged in response, and turned the boat to circle the island. At this more people had joined Robb to look at the statue on the shoreline. Still no one could make out what the statue was doing on the shoreline.

“Circle closer!” Raynald called back, laughing. “I want to see what has the monster slayer so entranced!” As the ship circled a third time Robb saw the statue _move._

“Land the ship! That’s a person!” Robb cried and no sooner had the ship run aground than Robb was climbing to the sandy beach and charging over to the man at the rock. _Gods be good, he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen_. 


End file.
